


Start Things Right

by Q_it



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Band-Aids, Darcy also needs a band-aid, Darcy needs to party, F/M, Fluff, New Year's Eve, Sass, Smut, belated, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:59:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Q_it/pseuds/Q_it
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis was going to get laid this evening.<br/>This wasn’t going to be one of those shitty hook-ups. This was going to be the best hook-up of her life. She wasn’t going to have an orgasm.  She was going to have many orgasms and she knew exactly the man for the job.<br/>Except he wasn’t really a man.<br/>He was more like a god.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start Things Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SweetSigyn (ferbette)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferbette/gifts).



> Hey, SweetSigyn, I have not abandoned you! I am your secret potato!
> 
> I am so sorry it took me so long to write this damn thing, but here it is. I hope you like it. :)

It had been years since Darcy had attended a party. 

Okay, scratch that. 

It had been years since Darcy had attended a cool party. You know, the kind with cocktail bars, strobe lights, and hot men lounging about on fancy couches. 

Recently, Darcy had only attended small, pitiful celebrations made to commemorate Jane winning this award or that. 

Now don’t get her wrong, Darcy loved a good award party. There was plenty of booze, but it was all champagne or wine and there was no point in getting drunk because she would be the only intoxicated one there. 

The potential mates were all brilliant conversationalists, so long as you knew shit about mathy-science. Darcy knew lots about science. She had her hard earned degree in political science. But politics didn’t get you anywhere when a bunch of semi-hot geeks wanted to know the dirty deets on Jane’s homemade machines. 

Needless to say, Darcy’s last great party had been in her junior year of college before Thor fell from the sky and dubbed her his lightning sister. 

That’s where tonight was going to save her. Tony Stark, a.k.a. her boss’ boyfriend/manchild, was hosting his annual New Year’s Party and Darcy was totally invited. That may or may not have something to do with the fact that she’s Executive Assistant to Jane Foster and Inter-Realm Domestic Affairs coordinator. 

That’s fancy talk for she fetches Jane her coffee and puts up with Thor and Loki’s brotherly bullshit in the lab. She had mad skills when it came to getting the two of them to cool their shit.

What could she say? She was good at her job. That kind of hard work doesn’t go unnoticed by Pepper Potts, no ma’am. Darcy was on the guest list. 

Nowadays the Avengers liked to hang out in their fancy little facility upstate New York. Darcy sort of worked in the city with Jane. Pepper let them live in Stark Tower, which was still a high functioning workplace with less fires now that Tony was away. The Avengers stopped by from time to time and Darcy was proud to say she was officially on first-name basis with all of them.

And because they were all so friendly, Darcy didn’t think twice about spicing up her look for this evenings festivities. She was going to land a smooch this year when that clock strikes twelve. There were bound to be tons of sexy individuals at Tony’s party that weren’t limited to geek language and wanted a hot piece of ass that evening. 

She decided to play it up. 

Her hair was curled in silky ringlets that bounced over her shoulders. The little black dress she picked out was tight enough to show off her curves and accentuate her greatest assets. And what went better with a boobilicious dress than some killer heels to bring out the ass? That, with the added effect of some dark red lipstick, Darcy Lewis was going to get laid this evening. 

And it was going to be a damn fine lay. 

This wasn’t going to be one of those shitty hook-ups. This was going to be the best hook-up of her life. She wasn’t going to have an orgasm.  She was going to have many orgasms and she knew exactly the man for the job. 

Except he wasn’t really a man. 

He was more like a god. Sort of. Technically he was a Frost Giant. A super hot Frost Giant with some sexy long legs and eyes that scream “Hey, baby, I might be crazy and a little murderous sometimes, but I really need a hug and your legs wrapped around me while I make you forget everything but my name.”

That’s precisely what his eyes said to her. Word for word. At least, that’s what her lady parts said to her everytime she looked at Loki. 

So, maybe she was crazy for wanting to fuck a major supervillain. Grandma Lewis, may she rest in peace, rolls over in her grave at the thought. But Darcy couldn’t help it. He was so sexy. And tall. And...sexy...and...tall…

Darcy stood in her hallway, focusing on her reflection in the mirror as she went over her plan for this evening. 

“Come on, Darce. Basic flirting 101. Get to the party and make all of the men drool at your feet. Make him see that you are clearly an attractive mortal with much to be desired.” she cleared her throat a bit and adjusted her breasts so her cleavage looked extra delectable. 

“Don’t pay those men any mind though. Mostly because you’re not interested in them, also because you’ve raised your standards above mortal men now. There is an entire universe. You can’t be tied down to one race.” Darcy assured herself, dabbing on more lipstick.

“Obviously he will be looking at you. I mean, really, who wouldn’t be? Just shimmy on over there with a couple glasses of champagne and start up a clever conversation about…” she stopped applying make-up in attempt to think of a proper area of conversation for them. 

“...fuck it. I’m sure it’ll come when the situation arises. We talk, midnight happens, we kiss, happy new year, blah blah blah...then he carries me back to his apartment and we fuck like it’s going out of style.” Darcy finalized her plan, examining her look in the mirror one last time. Not a hair was out of place and her confidence was heightened when she remembered her bra matched her underwear.. It was going to be a good night. 

With a sexy gait and her head held high, Darcy strut into Tony’s penthouse, ready to wow the masses. She stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed the sheer lack of hoarding, nightly inebriates nearly creaming their shorts at the sight of her. 

Instead, the Avengers plus Jane and Pepper, minus Bruce, stood around the bar chatting. Tony was pouring everyone reasonable portions of scotch. 

Reasonable. Portions. 

She’s talking serving sizes.

“Tony Stark, what gives?!” she whined, stomping to the bar. 

Tony grinned welcomingly, “Hello, Miss Lewis. I see you found your way to the party all right.”

She reached across the bar and stole his drink, downing it in a single gulp, managing not to smear her lipstick in the process. “I don’t understand. There were supposed to lights. And people.”

“So what are we?” Steve-the-ever-sassy-Rogers asked, sipping from an Asgardian flask Darcy learned a long time ago that she ought not to even look at for too long. “Chopped liver?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I meant people that I could take to bed and have my sweet, sweet way with. Or were you offering, Captain?”

Steve turned bright pink and everyone laughed. Natasha gave Darcy a look of approval and Darcy almost asked Sam to take a picture of the moment so she could put it in a frame next to her bed. 

Pepper came up behind Tony, kissing him on the cheek. “Well, Darcy, you can thank Tony for the inadequate selection of evening entertainment. He and Bruce played to hard and destroyed New York City. Everyone hates him.”

Tony made a face, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Darcy laughed with Sam and Steve, thinking that the night may not be so terrible afterall. That’s when Clint had to do what Clint did worst; talk. 

“Ooh, when’s the last time you got it Lewis?” he teased, walking around the bar to better look her up and down. “Let’s see...based on those heels with that much cleavage, I’d say about a year.” Clint’s eyes widened as they lingered on her legs. “Or maybe one and half? Are those stockings? Ow!”

He flinched when she pinched him and just to make a point, she did it again. “It has not been one and a half years!”

That part was true. It had been two years. It had been longer than that since she’d had an orgasm that wasn’t by her own hand. Pouting, she peered out to the balcony where Thor and Jane were curled up on one of Tony’s fancy lawn chairs with lots of blankets. Thor was pointing at the sky and talking about space while Jane asked endless questions. It was actually super adorable seeing them go uninterrupted. Usually Loki ruined the moment by making the Princely equivalent to fake-puking faces. During working hours in the lab, he sat there and scowled while he fucked around with Earth technology, looking damn fine as he did so.

Sighing, Darcy checked the time. Ten o’clock. Two hours. She had two hours to make Loki want to kiss her. She leveled her head, looking around for a glass of champagne to elegantly hold when it occurred to her that Loki wasn’t actually there. 

“Hey, where’s Sir Grumps a lot?” Darcy asked, trying not to come off as too obvious. She didn’t like Loki or anything. He was just super hot. It wasn’t like she enjoyed his company or anything like that. Really, she just wanted him for sex. 

Of course, that’s not what everyone else was thinking after she asked her question. Eyebrows met hairlines skeptically and Darcy gave them her best innocent expression. “What?”

Tony smiled teasingly over his freshly poured glass of scotch, batting his eyelashes like the asshole he knew he was. “Lewis, my little taser minion, do you have an ickle crush on America’s least favorite invader?”

Her first response should have been a solid ‘no’, instead it was: “I’m not your minion. You’re Pepper’s minion. Minions can’t have their own minions.”

“Touche.” 

Clint pointed at her accusingly, “Wait, she didn’t answer the question. Lewis, we might need to take you to the hospital to get your brain fixed. Nat? Can you perform an emergency procedure? I think our dearest Darcy likes Loki.”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Hey Thor?” she called to the balcony.

Thor looked up from his precious Jane to give Darcy his attention, “Yes, Lady Darcy?”

“Where’s your brother?”

Thor raised a brow, sharing a knowing look with Jane, “In his quarters. He made it quite clear he had no interest in attending tonight’s festivities.”

“Thank you,” Darcy told him in response as she reached over the bar counter, procuring a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. “Because your minds are all filthy, disgusting places, save Steven, I am not going to see Loki. I am going back to my apartment to take a nice warm bath and drink this alone.”

“You have two glasses.” Sam pointed out.

Darcy lifted her chin defensively, “Hey, I can’t help it that I’m super clumsy. And if you guys aren’t going to supply me with a sufficient party, this will have to be my alternative.”

With that, she was off, strutting down the hall, straight to the elevator and down two floors to Loki’s apartment. How did she know which one was Loki’s apartment? That was between her and FRIDAY. 

Outside his door, Darcy quickly devised a new plan. Clearly, she couldn’t woo him with polite party conversation. This was face to face. She came to his door specifically to see him. She was putting herself out there. Her options were simple. 

She could either be a concerned friend who wanted to make sure he was feeling all right and brought him some alcohol so he wouldn’t be lonely. 

Or she could be the smouldering temptress who slinked her way to his door to seduce him with her fabulous breasts and renowned wit after a few glasses of booze. 

The second option stole Darcy’s fancy as she held the bottle of champagne in one hand and the glasses in the other. 

Hoping to obtain that sexy-bunny-at-your-door pose, Darcy leaned in the doorway, making the terrible decision to knock with the hand that held the crystal flutes. One of them broke, effectively slicing her palm. 

“Fuck!” she cursed, breaking her sexy stance to swear loudly as she tried not to look down at her blood. She really hated blood. It wasn’t her thing at all. 

Unfortunately for her, that’s when Loki chose to open the door. He cocked a brow at her, taking in the scene before him. One bottle of champagne. One shattered glass. One smoking hot babe freaking out over the sight of her own blood. 

“Miss Lewis, what do you need?”

All the blood that wasn’t pouring out of her hand or rushing to her lady parts, had migrated to her face and was currently causing her tongue not to cooperate. “I...uh...hi. You weren’t at the party. I wanted to see if you were okay. Because...uh...I was...um...concerned.”

Well, fuck. There goes the smouldering temptress plan.

Loki adorned a look that told her everything she needed to know about how much of a smart ass he was. “Then what--?”

“Loki?” she interrupted, her heart pounding in her chest. Let it be known that Darcy had faced Dark Elves. She tased the God of Thunder after he fell from the sky. Darcy Lewis was scared of very little. It just so happened that one of the things was the sight of her own blood. “Do you have a band-aid?”

It took him a second to grasp her terminology. But he caught on once he saw her hand. Instantly, his expression softened and Darcy’s heart warmed over the bit of worry that engulfed his features. “You’re hurt.”

“Duh.” she almost whimpered, completely embarrassed. Loki was a god. So much for the All-Powerful-Mortal role she’d been building up. 

Loki didn’t give any inclination that he believed she was weak. Surprisingly, he took the champagne and remaining glass from her hands. “Come.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Darcy didn’t have the maturity not to imagine him saying that in an entirely different context and her abiding by his command all the same. 

Loki’s apartment shocked Darcy. 

She had expected it to be empty, barren of all decoration and scanty in the furniture department. He was Loki. He spent his free time moping in the darkness over how he lost everything and was forced to spend his life with all the puny mortals. 

But it wasn’t anything like that. 

The living room was full with furniture. There was a coffee table, a reclining armchair, and a sofa. Neither looked as plush, nor as squishy as Darcy liked, but they appeared comfortable. The hardwood floor was decked out in a furry rug and bits of disassembled mechanical stuff was strewn about. 

Yet, what grabbed Darcy’s attention were the books. 

Loki hadn’t been on Earth more than eight months, but his collection of reading materials was enormous. The walls were overtaken by bookshelves and the coffee table was covered in open journals and heavy texts. So, maybe Loki did have a hobby. Learning things was a good hobby.

“Sit.” he directed, nodding to the couch and Darcy scowled.

“You really have a way with words. I can see why they call you Silvertongue.” Darcy pointed out, taking a seat anyways.

Loki quirked a grin, setting down the champagne as his pearly whites dazzled her senses and her panties. “I can assure you, Miss Lewis, they call me Silvertongue for reasons that have nothing to do with words.”

Darcy waited for some intelligent quip to come to her. Instead she snorted, “Oh please, if you’re the Silvertongue, I’m pretty sure I take the title Platinumtongue. I mean, really, my oral skills are on point.”

Loki cocked a brow, taking a step closer to her. While she sat on the couch, he towered over her, his green eyes boring into her with that “Fuck me, you’re mine” look that made her knees weak. “Your audacity surprises me, Miss Lewis.”

“You should call me Darcy.” she told him, lifting her hand to poke him in the chest. He was dressed casually. A dark green turtleneck sweater and a dark pair of slacks. with black socks. Damn, she could unwrap him like a Christmas present. Once all that decorative paper was off, it was never going back on. 

She was about to add some sassy little comment to her statement when her eyes caught the sight of blood on her hand again and she found herself getting light headed. “Oh fuck…”

“Stay here.” Loki told her, disappearing down the hall. Not a moment later, he returned with a first aid kit and a full container of rubbing alcohol. Without hesitation, he sat on the couch beside her to uncork the champagne. 

As he poured a glass, Darcy protested. “Hey, you can’t drink without me! That goes against the rules of New Year’s Eve!”

Loki rolled his eyes, handing her the glass of champagne. “It’s for you, Darcy.”

“Oh, well then, cheers.” she said, accepting the glass and taking a sip. Tony sure knew what the good stuff was. “You should still have one though.”

Loki scoffed, inspecting the small cut on her palm, his long fingers tracing over the inside of her hand with a kind of tenderness that one did not typically expect from an ex-psycho-murderer. “That drink is typically used at times of celebration, yes?”

“Uh huh.” Darcy confirmed, making sure not to look at him wiping away the blood on her hand with a swab. She trained her gaze on his pretty face, taking the opportunity to gawk at how the light danced off his pale skin and officially add his cheekbones to her spank bank.

“Well,” he began, dabbing a blot of Neosporin to her cut, “I have no reason to celebrate, so why should I drink it?”

Darcy’s eyes rolled back in her head a little as his fingertips lightly traced one of the lines of palm. “Aw, come on, you don’t have to be celebrating to drink. Just ask Tony.”

He shook his head with a look of sheer disapproval as he gently placed a band-aid over her cut. “I would rather burn than willingly engage myself in conversation with Anthony Stark.”

“Sourpuss.” Darcy accused, lifting her hand to examine his work, “But, hey, nice skills, Doc! Healing all my battle wounds and stuff.”

Loki frowned, “Had I still my magic, I would have been able to heal it without ever opening my door. And this was hardly a battle wound. It is hardly a scratch that sliced a small vein.”

Darcy glanced away to hide her shame. “Yeah...about that…” she turned back to look him in the eyes. “Don’t think I’m weak or anything. I’m not. I’m actually the strongest person you know to be totally honest. I just...I’m super scared of my own blood. Not anyone else’s...just mine.”

His eyes showed no judgement, only curiosity which Darcy was beginning to think was second nature to him. “Why does it terrify you so?”

Hesitantly, she stood and Loki suddenly obtained a defensive posture, like she was going to accuse him of doing something wrong. “Dude, chill. I’m only pointing.” she assured, waving her hands in front of her. 

“When I was a kid, I got hit by a car while riding my bike. I was wearing a helmet, so I didn’t get any head injuries. But I was run off the road near a construction site. I was sort of impaled by a metal stake and my blood was everywhere. I thought I was going to die. I mean, I didn’t, clearly. But it took me forever to pass out and even longer for my parents to get there. I just sort of sat there, impaled on a stake, watching myself bleed out.” she explained, pointing to a spot just beside her navel. “I have an ugly scar there.”

Loki blinked innocently up at her, holding back a smile, “Can I see?”

Darcy plopped back down on the couch, “I would have to take this dress off for you to see.”

His dark green gaze swept up and down her figure, eye-fucking her every second of it. Victory, sweet victory. “A sacrifice I might be willing to make.”

Her panties weren’t going to survive until midnight, she could tell. “Of course, Loki, God of Mischief, always the guy to take one for the team.”

“Indeed,” he confirmed, watching Darcy bring the champagne glass to her lips again, her bandaged hand sitting on her lap. 

Loki gently picked it up, cupping her hand in his own, brushing his thumb over the band-aid. It occurred to her then that Loki had probably never put a band-aid on someone before. Maybe he would have healed someone magically, but she doubted that it would have been as intimate as it’d been between the two of them. 

The thought made her want to cry. 

Only, Loki really wouldn’t appreciate her crying over him. Instead, she scooched a bit closer, holding out her glass to him. “Here, drink with me. If you don’t want to celebrate the New Year, celebrate how great this dress makes my boobs look.”

Loki raised a brow, glancing down at her cleavage for a lingering second. At last, he resigned. “It would be an insult to such fine breasts not to drink in their honor.” 

Darcy grinned at his admittance of how damn fine she was. Maybe there was still time to party. She and Loki could to partying all on their own. Specifically, dancing. Hopefully, naked. 

She offered him the glass, but rather than taking it like a normal person, Loki has to go and be himself. He tilted his head back, looking expectantly to her. 

Darcy was never one to back down from a challenge, wiggling closer to his side and bringing the rim of the glass to his lips. She watched in a state of awe-inspiring lust as he sipped from her glass, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Finally, she set the glass down on the coffee table, her hand near shaking from the amount of control she was exercising by not jumping his bones right then and there.

She looked back at him just in time to see his tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Oh fuck me.” Darcy breathed.

Loki smirked, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think I will.”

Darcy prepared to take the Walk of Shame’s less popular and more hated younger brother, the Walk of Lame. That’s the walk one must take after they’ve tried their best to seduce someone and they get turned down. 

But Loki wasn’t finished speaking. He sat up, his fingers trailing a path down the side of her neck and over her shoulder, causing her heart to do a thing that a doctor might admit her to the hospital for. “I think I would like to do much more than simply fuck you, Darcy Lewis. I should like to make you mine, take you here and--”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the rest of his lovely speech about what he wanted to do to her. Darcy would have spontaneously combusted if he kept on and he would have had to wipe Darcy guts off his books. That would have been gross.

Really, it worked out better that she kissed him. 

Oh and what a kiss it was. 

Loki wasn’t joking about that Silvertongue thing. The kiss started hot, fast, and a bit graceless on Darcy’s part. Loki, however, had not lost his eloquence. He kissed her deliberately, every flick of his tongue against hers, every nip at her lips had a purpose. 

She quickly took off her heels, pushing Loki back against the couch so she could straddle his lap. He smirked up at her, “So eager.”

Darcy smiled coyly, grinding down against the hard length in his lap. He moaned in response, his long fingers gripping the backs of her thighs. “Uh huh. Keep talking, Your Highness. How long has this been here?”

His lips were on her skin, biting at her collarbone, “Since the moment you showed up at my door, Minx.” he growled. 

Darcy tangled her fingers in his long black hair, tugging on it so she could kiss him again. His hands hands gave her ass a solid squeeze before moving to find the zipper on her dress. 

“Loki…” she sighed as the dress loosened enough that he could pull down the front and expose her breasts to him. 

“I lied.” he said between the kisses he trailed along the line of her black lacy bra that totally matched her underwear. Delicately, as if she might break, Loki pushed the strap of her bra down her arm, pulling the cup aside to take one of her pert nipples into his mouth. 

She gasped as he pinched the other through her bra, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck…”

He released her breast, reaching around her back to unhook the bra and be done with the damn thing. “I have wanted you long before tonight.”

“Good,” Darcy said, standing up from his lap to slide out of her dress and bra. Loki hungrily took in her body, from the ample weight of her breasts, to the smooth curve of her hip. “You’re wearing too many clothes. Strip, Mischief.”

He cocked a brow at her, “Are you making demands of me, Ms. Lewis?”

“Totally,” Darcy said, straddling his lap again and tugging on his sweater to pull it over his head. He complied and Darcy nearly choked on her own lust at Loki’s lean, shirtless form pressed tight against hers. He held her close, so close that Darcy would have believed they’d been together forever. It was magical how well her lips fit against his and how, even though she was a little over half naked, he was keeping her skin hot. It was like every inch of her had been set on fire.

She ground against him and he moaned into her mouth, grabbing her hips to help her move against him. There was something about the moment, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been given an orgasm in two years+, but Loki had her dangling on the precipice of ecstasy and he still had his fucking pants on.

But she couldn’t pass it. She could tell he was holding back for whatever reason. “Loki…”

“Darcy,” he said her name like she alone was his salvation. 

She gripped his hair, making him look her in the eye. “Let go, Loki. Don’t hold back. I want to feel you. I want you.”

Those last three words made him stop. The look he gave her was not one of a psycho-killer, but rather a boy who had always been cast aside, that was just now realizing that someone might want him. The innocence on his face shouldn’t have been legal. Especially considering their current position. 

She let her hands slide down his chest, not breaking eye contact. “I need you, Loki. Please.”

His eyes met hers in an intense, intimate stare, “Are you sure? I warn you, Darcy Lewis, if I do as you ask, allow you to have me as you wish, this will not end tonight.”

“Good. I was kinda hoping to take this well into the early morning.” she smiled, pecking his lips and inching her body closer to his so her breasts pressed against his chest. “And I wouldn’t be opposed to the nights, mornings, and high noons following.”

Loki’s pupil’s dilated, overcome with lust as she rocked her hips against him once more. Gently, she took his hands from her leg and face, holding them to her breasts. She kissed her way to his ear, whispering to him with every ounce of sincerity in her body. “I’m yours, Loki.”

And she meant it. 

Maybe, just maybe, she’d been lying to herself before when she said she didn’t have it bad for Loki. Because she totally had a thing for him. 

She really had a thing by that sound of complete and utter satisfaction he made. 

“You are trouble, aren’t you?” he asked, brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Nah. I’m not trouble, I just really like mischief.” she said, taking the digit between her teeth for a teasing second. “In fact, I could use a little mischief in me now.”

He laughed and Darcy’s heart choked on itself in trying to move her blood around so quickly. Before she could summon the air to create a proper response Loki had one arm wrapped around her body and was switching their positions so he knelt between her legs in front of the couch. 

“I quite agree, Darcy.” he assured, teasingly tracing the lace pattern of her underwear, lightly rubbing her clit through the material. “You have not had nearly enough mischief inside you.”

Darcy gasped when he pressed a very chaste kiss to a really not-so-chaste part of her body. Arousal heated every nerve in her body as she work up the words to actually communicate as a normal human might. “Who better to rectify my situation. You should do that...soon. Please.”

Loki chuckled a bit, placing a series of small kisses on the insides of her thighs. “All in good time. I want to enjoy you, Darling, because, quite frankly,” he paused to slowly slide her panties down her legs, “you are absolutely ravishing.”

Darcy wished she’d been prepared for the true meaning of the name “Silvertongue” because holy mother of Thor, Loki’s mouth was fucking divine. He wasn’t gentle, nor was he rough; he licked and sucked, loving on her in what one might think was desperation. 

And she could see the utter contentment in Loki’s gaze as he circled her clit with his tongue, building her pleasure as quickly as ever it had been done just before drifting downwards to her dripping entrance. 

“Loki…” she moaned, tugging at his hair. “...stop fucking around.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, the vibrations of his voice sending her body into dangerous levels of arousal. “I thought you wanted me to fuck around.” he accentuated his point by spreading her lips with his fingers and laving her center with hot kisses that quickly turned to even hotter licks. 

She whimpered his name, her hips wrenching off the edge of the couch as she came. Loki kissed her belly, sucking on the skin of her hip as she came down from her orgasm-high. 

After a good minute of basking in the awesome power of brilliant oral sex, Darcy focused her wide-eyed gaze onto her new lover. “Wow. You just...with your face...and...Jesus...wow...:”

Loki grinned smugly, “Out of every bedmate I have ever confounded, my greatest pride will forever be having rendered speechless Darcy Lewis.”

“Fuck you,” Darcy retorted, reaching for him, pulling on his upper arms to get on with the main event. She wanted him on top of her. His weight, his heat, his passion. “And technically, we are couchmates.”

Complying to her unspoken demands,  Loki kissed his way up her body, stopping to pay her breasts special attention. “That could easily be remedied.”

“You know what else could be easily remedied?” she asked as Loki settled between her bare legs,  her hardened nipples pressing into his chest. 

His lips brushed against her neck, sucking on her pulse. “This lovely state of wanting you happen to be in?”

“That and the fact that you’re still wearing pants.” Darcy said, her voice thick and heady with lust. “We should try to kill two birds with one stone here, just sayin’...”

Loki growled in irritation, sitting up to aggressively rid himself of his trousers. Darcy was totally unsurprised when there wasn’t anything under said trousers for him to take off. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to tease Loki the Commando God before he was kissing her again, harder, needier… The taste of her on his tongue remained and the intensity of their combined desire had Darcy turned into a quivering mess, grinding against  him in abandon while he whispered titillatingly dirty things in her ear. 

“Loki…” she coaxed, pulling his hips closer to hers, lining up the tip of his cock with her wet pussy. “Come on.”

“Gods, Darcy,” he said, voice cracking as he slid into her, sheathing himself entirely in her hot, dripping center. “You are exquisite.”

She swallowed, afraid she might choke on her own want for him. “Loki, you feel so good.”

Their mouths fit together sloppily, harsh breaths and languid tastes the essence of their kisses. Loki propped himself up on his elbows, fingers linked behind her head so they could have a better bearings on the limited couchspace. 

Darcy was so close, desperate moans and indignant whimpers of praise fell from her lips until, at last, she wrapped her legs around his waist, linking her ankles like a trap around Loki’s thrusting hips. The slightly different position made her gasp in pleasure and Loki increased his speed, looking down at her in awe. “Come for me, Darcy.”

It was as if her body was at his command, for no sooner had he told her to, she was falling apart beneath him. She called out his name so loudly the Avengers were probably questioning what the God of Mischief had gotten into with the intern. Darcy could hardly care as Loki fucked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm, following her with a loud moan, his entire body shaking as he pulsed inside her. 

They lay there for a while, Loki half collapsed on top of her, his lips pressing gentle kisses to her neck and shoulders as he held her. Who would have known that Loki was a cuddler? Grant it, he was a lot more cuddly looking when he was naked and still hard. Must be a god thing.

“So,” Darcy began, having regained her voice from pleasure-overload. “was it good for you?”

Loki sighed exasperatedly, “No. Clearly, it was terrible.” he made sure to accentuate his sarcasm  by moving his hips, causing a few lingering waves of pleasure to wash over her starting from where they were still joined. 

“What can I say?” Darcy grinned, kissing the tip of his nose, “I’m talented like that.”

Tiredness beginning to settle in, she looked to the clock and snorted. “God, I’m falling asleep and it’s not even past ten-thirty. I must be getting old.”

Loki chuckled, shifting as if to pull away from her. Instantly, Darcy locked her ankles tighter, keeping him right where he was. “Where do you think you’re going, Mischief? I was hoping this couch could get a bit chaotic in the next couple of hours…” she ended her statement with a yawn.

“Believe me, Darcy. Any chaos made here will be entirely your fault.” Smirking, Loki wrapped his arms around her, flipping them over so she could sprawl on his chest. From the back of the couch, he pulled a blanket and draped it over them. 

“I’m totally a mess.” she said sleepily, “A hot mess.”

Loki stroked her hair, running his fingers down her back under the blanket. “You do know who I am, do you not?”

She hummed, pressing a few light kisses to the smooth pale skin of his shoulder. “The Hot Mess himself. Emphasis on hot.”

They laughed softly and Darcy embraced the quietest New Year’s Eve she might ever have. Probably since there was no ways she was staying awake till then. 

“Loki?”

“Yes, Darcy?” 

She sighed, truly believing she had never been more comfortable in her life; which was odd since her man-pillow was kind of a supervillain. 

The little cut on her hand throbbed and Darcy studied the band-aid with a tiny smile. 

No. Loki wasn’t a supervillain. He was a dork. A really pretty, sexually inclined dork. 

“Darcy?” Loki asked again when she didn’t respond. 

Snuggling closer, she answered him, “Wake me up at midnight.”

He was quiet for a second and his fingers ceasing their gentle caresses on her back. “Will you leave then?” he asked in what was meant to sound Loki-casual. 

“You mean move?” Darcy slurred with as much sass as she could muster. “Nice try, Mischief. You’re going to be my New Year’s kiss and then I’ll take you back to your room and have my wicked way with you for hours on end. And after, we’ll be so exhausted that we won’t leave your bed for, like, a week.”

“I do not doubt it.” Loki said in good humor. The last thing she heard before her brain went on it’s nightly vacation were his whispers, in a language she didn’t recognize. His voice made the words sound like music and she fell asleep to their sweet melody. 

With one minute left till midnight, Loki coaxed her to consciousness. Their New Year’s kiss was slow and a bit sloppy, but it smouldered, kindling a fire in Darcy that only lit when Loki was around. 

Needless to say, the following rampant floor sex could have set Stark Tower ablaze. 

And if that was any indication of how her year was going to go, Darcy was sure she’d be partying with Loki many New Year’s to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> ...  
>  In MY defense, I have been out of the smut circle since, like, August. I forgot how to write smut. How? I don't fucking know. I just know that any future sexytimes I write will definitely require some deep thinking.  
> Thank you all for reading!


End file.
